


Pursuit

by trainhopper



Category: And Then There Were None (TV 2015)
Genre: Agatha Christie is probably screaming at me from the afterliffe, Listen here, Lombard does a thing, M/M, Rogers does a thing, but nobody else would write this pair, consider yourself warned, i don't even have any relevant character tags, i know this ain't gonna be great, probably isn't even "good", rampant misuse of the "without plot" part of Porn Without Plot, so this is what happens, things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:59:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7362385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainhopper/pseuds/trainhopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lombard's attractive enough to do whatever the hell he wants, including Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pursuit

It had been a long day, to say the least. More than enough travelling and dealing with unfamiliar people and settings. And, as far as Philip Lombard was concerned, entirely too much “wait what’s going on here”. After being called out to some sea-rock known as Soldier Island for a job with almost no background information, Philip had immediately began to speculate. Things had seemed normal enough for the duration of his transit, but that didn’t last for very long after they had all arrived at the mansion on Soldier Island. Philip had, of course, been hired here under the premise of “volatile situations,” but there so far there had been no indication of… anything.

The rest of the “guests,” Philip found, seemed equally & increasingly clueless as to why they were on the island. Granted, they’d all been drawn by different reasons to start with, but the absence of a ‘U N Owen’ threw a sizable wrench in all their plans. All in all, it was a bit confounding.

Lombard had tried not to let any of this get in the way of his assigned purpose. As soon as he met with the group he was to share the island with, he began carefully observing them all. He mentally filed anything he thought would be of importance later. It was easy to get a read on all of the guests, except the stolid Justice Wargrave, and perhaps Armstrong. He noted to himself that he would probably have to devote extra attention to them over the course of the weekend.

The staff members hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Mrs. Rogers was pretty easy to determine, as it seemed the majority of her personality consisted of “timid.” Mr. Rogers was somewhat different. Despite his collected & professional front, Lombard got the sense that the butler might be the only real threat to anyone (except for Philip himself of course). The Irishman couldn’t deny that he was intrigued.

There seemed to be a silent threat hanging around Rogers at all times. It was palpable but difficult to put into words. As the first day dragged on, Lombard found himself increasingly drawn to Rogers, perhaps identifying with whatever perceived darkness he had sensed in the other man.

Somewhere in the midst of all Philip’s subtle observing & what few brief interactions the two had, the Irishman’s desire to simply study the butler like he studied most of his “targets” turned into something more.

Philip’s predatory nature drove his thoughts, & he realized exactly what he wanted with Rogers.

\---------------------

It was late now, after the dinner formalities were through & the women had retired to the parlor to chat. The men remained in the dining room, filling the air with cigarette smoke & romanticized stories of past escapades. Philip found himself too preoccupied with his own thoughts to participate. He instead kept to himself, periodically taking a drag off his own cigarette. He’d never been one for tall tales anyway.

The atmosphere in the dining room soon got to be too stifling for Lombard, and after Rogers left to check on the kitchen again, the Irishman snuffed out his cigarette & quietly excused himself from the table. He took care to mix himself a strong drink off to the side before setting to locate the person caught in his sights. Nobody noticed Philip step out of the room except for Marston, who had been making snide comments to the Irishman on the side all evening.

As Philip made his way down the darkened hallways, he thought about Ms. Claythorne, or Vera. Just another easy-to-evaluate guest in the mansion. She seemed to put on quite the show, trying too hard to be unnoticeable. Philip thought that she would have everyone see her as a perfect & proper lady. And, for all her efforts to the contrary, Philip could tell that she was, well, not that. He had also caught Vera eyeing him with a different kind of look than what she gave to anyone else on the island a time or two.

Silly girl, Lombard thought to himself as he found himself below-stairs, at the door of the room he’d been searching for. He pushed it open quietly & glanced around. As he’d hoped, Rogers was at one of the the kitchen counters working.

The Irishman leaned against the door frame, silently sipping off his drink and contemplating his next move. If only Ms. Claythorne knew, he thought absently. She’s far too easy.

As he watched Rogers continue bustling around the small area, Philip pushed the last of those thoughts from his head. There would be time to deal with other issues later. At the moment, he wanted to focus fully on Mr. Rogers, while there seemed to be no annoying intrusions.

Philip leaned in the corner for a few moments, calmly watching Rogers work. The butler seemed lost in his task at hand, hurriedly cleaning & preparing things for the group of guests. Eventually, though, Philip had enough waiting. He stood up straight & cleared his throat. Rogers jumped, but turned & quickly regained his formal composure.

“Can I help you, sir?” the butler asked, absently smoothing the front of his vest.

Philip just smirked, a reaction that was barely discernible in the dim lighting. He stood for a long moment swirling the remains of his drink around the bottom of the glass.

“Sir?” Rogers repeated, a hint of confusion showing through his otherwise neutral expression.

“Yes,” Philip decided aloud. Up until that very moment, he hadn’t been entirely sure that this was really something he wanted to follow through on. Not that the Irishman was one to back out of things, but the worry that he wasn’t keeping an eye on things like he should’ve been kept bothering him. However, the situation, with Rogers a mere few feet away & just enough alcohol in Philip’s veins, made the choice for him. “Yes, I believe you can.” It was a terrible idea, but as usual, desire proved the strongest decision-maker.

Rogers watched silently as Lombard tipped his head back to finish off the rest of his drink. In the haze of the dull lamplight, the butler found it easy to become distracted by the simple fluidity of the younger man’s movements. As Lombard pushed himself off the door frame, Rogers didn’t register that the younger man was moving towards him until it was too late.

Philip came to stop in front of Rogers, just close enough to raise questions. The younger man stood with his hands in the pockets of his tux as he waited for the butler’s reaction. Rogers shuffled back from Philip until he was pressed against the counter behind him.

The butler tried again. “Is… is there something you need, sir?”.

Perhaps not the best word choice, Philip thought with another smirk. He advanced again towards Rogers until there was less than a foot between them and stopped, tipping his head forward as he judged the other man’s responses. A predatory glint shone in his eyes, through the hair that had fallen carelessly into his face.

Rogers wanted to move away, he did. Philip was close enough for the butler to smell alcohol & cigarettes, and Rogers had nowhere else to back up. It didn’t happen, though. Instead he stood, hands now gripping the counter behind him, and waited expectantly.

“You, Rogers.”

The butler stumbled for a moment, breath catching. “Beg your pardon, sir?”

“I need you,” Philip restated, nodding forward on the last word to add emphasis.

“In what… capacity, sir?”

The younger man smiled in a way that would have been more fitting on a shark than a person. “Physical.”

Rogers swallowed. His grip on the counter behind him tightened. He eyed the man with equal parts suspicion & trepidation. But he never moved away.

The older man knew, if Philip was indeed suggesting what Rogers thought, that it was almost certainly wrong to allow this. But damn it all, Philip was convincing & after all, the butler was rarely bothered by a sense of what was “right.” Rogers nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, sir.”

Philip’s grin returned. He was seldom met with such willing prey. “Good man,” he acknowledged. Then he left no more room for questions or second thoughts, sweeping forward the last few inches to close the gap between them and seizing the back of the butler’s neck in his right hand with one fluid motion.

Their eyes met for a brief moment before the younger man brought their lips together. It was slow at first, with Rogers adjusting to the sudden strong taste of brandy and smoke being pressed against his mouth. Philip pulled away for a moment, lips still parted. Before the Irishman could pull further away, however, Rogers moved past his initial shock. He gave over, leaned forward quickly, and kissed Philip back.

Philip pushed back against Rogers & took the lead, moving his mouth roughly, panting in between. Rogers was less sure of himself, but he followed Philip’s lead eagerly. They tossed out all pretense of personal space as Lombard pinned the butler against the counter possessively, tilting the other’s head with his hand to get a better angle.

Rogers, now pressed harshly against the Irishman, returned to gripping the counter with both hands. He sucked in a sharp breath against Philip’s mouth as he felt the younger man press a thigh between his legs. The butler tried his best to keep the last shred of his composure, even as Philip was sucking his bottom lip greedily. He wished it didn’t take so little to break him down, but it was too late now.

The older man relented & started grinding his hips back against Lombard’s thigh, creating a much-needed friction. Philip groaned almost inaudibly as he felt the butler give in. It felt good to him to have that kind of control over others. The younger broke his lips away and pulled back from Rogers for a few seconds, noting the disappointment clear on the other’s face as he did.

Then, wordlessly, Philip shifted so he was finally directly in front of Rogers. He moved forward gradually, once again wrapping his hand around the back of the butler’s neck to pull him into a long kiss. Lombard’s free hand went to Rogers’ waist to brace himself as he slowly pressed their hips together.

Rogers almost jerked forward at the sudden pressure, but Philip kept him pinned and didn’t rush. The Irishman ground the hard ridge in his suit pants against Rogers’ own and tried not to moan too needily.

The butler, unwilling to hold still any longer, finally broke his hold of the counter with one hand. He reached around Philip’s lower back to press him just slightly closer. Lombard complied and dug his cock lower against the other man’s. Rogers shifted, pressing his hips back against Philip’s and matching his rhythm.

They stayed moving obscenely against each other for a few minutes. Philip wished they had the time for something more, but he wasn’t one to complain. There was always a next time.

The Irishman grinned slightly at that thought and moved his mouth casually down the older man’s throat. Rogers’ breath caught as he felt the younger man ghost his lips against the other’s throat, not wanting to leave visible marks.

Philip reached his hand up to tangle it in Rogers’ hair and tug his head back roughly. That was enough to send the butler over the edge, and he came against Philip, whispering the other’s name.

Lombard buried his face against the older man’s neck, muttering “fuck” repeatedly. He pressed his hips harder against Rogers, who was still coming down, the rhythm becoming more erratic.

The butler, registering that Philip was still fucking against him, reached down to press roughly against the other man’s trapped cock. The younger man groaned and came harshly, undone by the feeling of Rogers’ very deliberate touch.

After they both came down, Philip leaned against Rogers for a moment longer, letting them both catch their breath. Then he pulled apart from the butler and began smoothing over his tux in various places.

Rogers, still partially caught up in the general shock of everything that had just happened, began calculating how much time he could spare to slip back into the servants’ quarters and change clothes. It was an inconvenience, to say the least. But a welcome one, perhaps.

Lombard turned to leave the kitchen and hopefully change his own pants without any prying eyes noticing. But before he stepped away, the Irishman turned back to grab the butler up in a last slow kiss.

To Lombard, that single act assigned more meaning to what they were doing than just leaving it as a quick fuck. It conveyed what he couldn’t put into fitting words.

Then the two broke apart and Philip left without another word, leaving Rogers to hurry off to his own quarters. When the younger man returned to the party as well-put-together as before, he was met with nothing more than a few sideways glances. And if the butler and Philip seemed a little different around each other, no one noticed.

 

Especially not after people started dropping dead.

**Author's Note:**

> for all two people who read this, feel free to leave a comment insulting me for having written this


End file.
